You Need Her, She Needs You
by TheLifeLongEditor
Summary: Booker DeWitt died in the baptismal waters at the hands of Elizabeth Comstock, or did he? Follow as Infinity takes hold and the impossible merely becomes the improbable and discover that redemption is always within reach! Burial At Sea DLC fic. Booker/Elizabeth pairing, not-related. A revised summary will come soon.


**You Need Her, She Needs You**

**By TheLifeLongEditor**

**Author's Note: Happy New Year everyone! Technically by the time this is uploaded it will still be 2019 but I figured this would be a nice way to send off the old year and bring in the new. I wrote this way back in October before I went on vacation with the full intention of posting it after I got back but I figured it would need some work and it could do better around New Years so here we go. I hope you all seriously enjoy this as it's somewhat an experiment. If you guys and gals want, I can make this into a full fledged series following the Burial At Sea, otherwise I can leave this as a one-shot and well...yeah...either way, I shall bend to the will of the people.**

**Oh, it is also fair to say that I had this idea while listening to Wang Chung's "Dance Hall Days" during a particularly long drive to my previous work and I figured, What the heck. In any event, if the summary didn't already tell you then you should know this is a Booker/Elizabeth fanfic and for my purposes they won't be related. **

**I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bioshock Infinite or Burial at Sea, that pleasure belongs to Ken Levine!**

* * *

Rapture, New Years Eve, December 31st, 1958

* * *

A wise author once wrote that the sea is cold, but contains the hottest blood of all. As one Booker DeWitt removed the pipe from his mouth and looked out into the abyssal depths from the porthole in his private office and watched as various sea creatures passed him by unbothered by his or this city's presence, he was convinced that author may have been on to something. But Booker wasn't the type of man to wax poetically; he was a man of action, a man of passion, and a man of the bottle at certain points.

"To think, all that separates us is a few inches of glass…" Booker sighed, exhaling the rich fumes of tobacco as he turned back to his desk. He shot a glare at the empty bottle of _Glenn _littering the top of his desk and quickly used a touch of the newly improved telekensis plasmid to toss the empty container into the bin. Slowly he opened the lower drawer of his desk and pulled out a fresh bottle of fifteen year aged _Glenlevit. _Slowly, the private detective removed the cork and poured the amber liquid into a crystal glass and took a small sip which earned a relaxed sigh for its troubles.

The detective unbuttoned his gray waistcoat and took a seat in the rather comfortable chair and looked around his office. It was dark, smokey, looked like something right out of the pictures. He chuckled and turned his attention to his desk, files piled upon files littered the oak furniture.

"Sofia Lamb…must be new…." He mumbled as he lifted the first file, came in from one of Ryan's goons no doubt. The next file was a generic portfolio sent out to most of the private detectives in rapture detailing the exploits of one Frank Fontaine of Fontaine Futuristics, a clever if not shrewd business man who was making significant in-roads on Ryan's grip over the submerged city. The offer was pretty simple, dig up enough dirt and there would be a handsome reward of both money and adam. Booker was smarter than most, the allure of adam didn't hold the same as it did for most in Rapture and the money…well…the money wasn't worth getting in the middle of those two lions; word on the street was that a war was coming to Rapture, and DeWitt wasn't about to get caught in the crossfire.

The last file was one that always managed to find its way back on his desk, whether he tossed it in the bin, threw it across the room in anger, or just stashed it away in his desk, somehow the damned thing always came back. Simple black letters scrawled on the name portion of the portfolio simply read _'Sally' _and that name was enough to drive this particular man to seek solace in a bottle. He didn't know why he kept that dollhead around, perhaps as a reminder of what he'd done, tried to do, and allowed to happen. Booker rubbed his salt and pepper hair and began searching for a particular file, the most important file of his entire career. He frowned when he noticed a small stack of papers strewn about the floor under his desk and knelt down to reorganize and collect the documents when the telltale sound of his office door's creak flooded the room.

"'Scuse me, but we're closed at the moment. You'll have to come back tomorrow!" Booker shouted, his head still stuck in the drawer as he desperately searched for that blasted folder.

"You don't look the sort who can afford to turn down legitmate work." Came the cold and curt response of a woman who sounded as if she were ready to kill. Startled by the response, DeWitt sat back up in his chair and watched the petite and almost curvy woman saunter into his office and take her place at the far blinded windows, away from his direct view. If looks could kill, he would have been a goner.

"What do you want lady?" Booker asked and winced at his own words, he hadn't meant it to come out that intense but he wasn't exactly in the business of letting people barge in both unwanted and unannounced, no matter how attractive they may appear.

"How about we start with a light?" she responded with the same neutral tone, not bothering to turn and face him as she made her request, merely offering to hold a cigarette out as an invitation to approach.

The detective stood from his desk and slowly approached the woman. She was a slight thing, probably in her early-to-mid-twenties. She had long flowing brown hair and wore black heels with a matching black skirt, a single white stripe coming up the side was its only defining feature amidst the darkness of the room. Her blouse was a form-fitting affair, with black cuffs. Overall, based on light appearances alone, she was easily the most attractive woman he'd come across in Rapture. The more closely he examined her the more he began to recognize her from some of Rapture's more recent pieces of propaganda. Word in town was that crazy bastard Sander Cohen had taken up a new apprentice, a pretty and talented one at that, the poster's dubbed this woman as "_Cohen's Songbird", _heaven knew that man needed no more attention to inflate his already incredibly massive ego.

"You got a name, Miss?" Booker asked and snapped his finger, brining his _incinerate _plasmid to life and held it out for the lady to use as she saw fit. The lady, in response, turned so that he could see her sapphire blue eyes. Something about those eyes stilled Booker's heart, it was as if he had seen them before and a shiver soon rolled down his spine. The beautiful brunette reached over and pulled his hand closer to the cigarette and lit the it and illuminated her face in the process.

"Elizabeth…You can call me, Elizabeth." She said darkly and Booker's eyes went wide as a sudden feeling of blood rushing to his head overwhelmed him and a loud screech shot through his ears and directly into his mind as he was suddenly overwhelmed by powerful and vivid imagery. The detective grabbed her wrist both in wanting to get a better look and to steady himself, causing Elizabeth to gasp in surprise. He looked down and that's when he saw the front of her hand, carved deeply and jaggedly but unmistakable to the eye, _B.D. _He wanted to question the woman, he needed to question the woman, Booker, however, was somewhere else entirely…

((()))((()))

_Poetry books and other heavy tomes were being tossed at him from above and increasingly from the front, a woman screeched at him as he attempted to stand, only to be pelted by more heavy reading material._

"_Hey…knock it off!" His voice shouted, but not of his own will. These were his hands and his words, but he was not using them and he was not speaking them. It was as if he were dreaming, but this was more vivid than any dream he had ever had before. Booker brought his hands up again as his words only earned him thump in the head courtesy of Pride & Prejudice. _

_W-Will you STOP IT!" Booker heard his voice plead as he held up a hand with the letters A.D. deeply carved into the front of the palm. The girl raised another tome, the title was lost on Booker but at this point he was more focused on her than anything else. It was the same woman as before, in his office, but she looked different, less stiff and burdened and more innocent than anything else. _

_Instead of the skirt and tight blouse and long free-flowing hair, she now wore a beautiful blue skirt with a flowing white blouse with a matching blue ascot. Her hair was tied up with a blue ribbon. At this point, the detective also noticed he was no longer in his office, hell he didn't even think he was in rapture anymore, but even more importantly he didn't appear to be in control of himself. _

"_Who ARE you?" she asked, her voice shaking with adrenaline and terror. Booker watches as he reaches out and grasps her shoulder._

"_A friend…I've come to get you out of here." He managed to get her to lower the volume and take a breath to hear his words. The girl furrowed her brows in thought and suddenly her expression changed from one of panic to joy and intrigue. _

"_Are you real?" She asks shakily and touches his face, it is the softest touch he had ever experienced. Booker stared into her deep cerulean pools and nodded._

"_Real enough…"_

((()))((()))

The private detective felt as if his entire being were sucked through keyhole he himself found being shoved back first into his desk back in Rapture. His head was swimming with the images and experiences he just witnessed, just felt, they felt as real as he was standing in this very room, but that was impossible because they didn't happen, he didn't remember any of that ever happening before. Booker soon gained some semblance of balance and focus and noticed the girl was now aiming a revolver at him. He reached to his side holster and noticed his own was missing; it then became clear she had disarmed him when she pushed him back.

"Who…what…are you?" Booker asked breathlessly and Elizabeth only looked at him with confusion. "What the hell did you do to me!?"

"I don't have the foggiest idea of what you are referring to…is it possible this is another result of your rampant alcoholism?" She chided, dismissing his accusations as the ramblings of a drunken madman. But at the same time part of her was curious as she watched a trickle of blood emerge from his nose.

"Don't bullshit me, lady! I've had barely had a drop today and I know the damn difference between drunken delusions and...and...that!" Booker glared as his head felt heavy on his shoulders once more. "You were here, but we were somewhere else and you were throwing books at me!" He said with a breathless tone and in his attempt to sort out the mixture of thoughts and emotions that both were of his own mind and those what were not, all the while he missed the perplexed expression on the songbird's face.

Elizabeth's eyes widened with shock as this was definitely an unexpected turn of events. With a deep breath, she weighted her next options and took a step forward. There was only one possible explanation for this recent revelation and unfortunately it didn't fit with her plans for the man standing before her, but ultimately she would get what she wanted, even if it wasn't necessarily how she wanted it. She had a job to do, she couldn't let silly emotions or notions of the past come between her and her mission, she would be damned if other's would suffer at _his _hands, especially because of her failure.

As the woman ruminated, Booker stole another glance at the beautiful brunette and watched as she delicately approached. His eyes traveled along her curves until he met those azure pools. They had been fiercly determined but as green met blue, they turned to that of surprise. At that, Booker's head began to swirl once more, that sinking feeling in the bottom of his gut returned and the rush of blood returned to his sinuses once more. It was as if all of time suddenly stopped and he was violently wretched away from his office to another place and time entirely as the same gold and white light overtook his vision once more.

((()))((()))

"_Guess it runs in the family." Was the first thing Booker heard as the light dissipated. The comfortable walls of his office were gone and his surroundings, once shrouded in black, had slowly become more clear as a sphere of light expanded around them. _

"_Elizabeth…" He heard his own voice call, but not in anguish or anger this time, but in concern. They were not in the same place that he was taken before, they were somewhere else entirely but the room was sparse in the form odd details. The floor was wood and there was piping all around, but that could have meant anything. But location wasn't what caused Booker to internally flinch, it was watching that black woman crawling toward her all the while bleeding out._

_The lady was in a state of disarray, her blouse was un-tucked, having been ripped in some places and torn in others, no doubt from various ware and tear. The most striking change was that she was almost completely covered in blood, from a source that was not her own. He watched as he reached out to hold her and that's when the girl seemed to recognize his presence. She jumped at the sudden movement, her eyes wide, almost wild._

"_Woah…woah…hey, hey, hey, easy…" He tried to reassure Elizabeth that he wasn't going to hurt her. But she didn't seem to register anything beyond the lack of any visible threat. Instead the frightened and shocked girl turned and fled from sight and with that the vision came to an abrupt halt as the blinding light overtook all in sight._

_"ELIZABETH!" He heard his own voice cry out in panic as his feet took flight to intercept the young woman. He felt the need to comfort the distraught girl, to assure her the world was not about to fly apart at the seams, that she wasn't a monster, that she wasn't a killer. All of these thoughts and more swirled in his head as he approached the door to the dirigible and just before he entered the world vanished before him. _

((()))((()))

Booker blinked and saw that he was once again in his office leaning heavily against his desk with one hand and reaching out toward the girl with another. His breath heavy as his lungs felt they weren't able to acquire as much oxygen as necessary. His chest hurt, his head felt as if someone was driving a railroad spike directly into his brain, and his legs felt as slippery a jelly. Whatever this lady was doing, it was getting worse and it needed to stop before it killed him.

"Why…How…" Booker stuttered as he rounded his deske and tried to look for something, anything, to get him out of this situation but found no such luck. Elizabeth took another step forward and steadied the gun in her hand.

"Well played, _Comstock." _She spat with a hateful frown. "I see that here, just like everywhere else, you've managed to rob me of the one thing that could bring me joy!" The detective looked confused at her words.

"What the HELL are you talking about? My name isn't Comstock, my name is Booker DeWitt…" Booker struggled to speak as the chokehold on his lungs grew tighter with every word he spoke, but Elizabeth either didn't seem to notice or care.

"Don't deny it, Prophet! I've tracked you down in hundreds upon hundreds of worlds…you fled here to escape your fate." Elizabeth started and looked down to the floor with a sorrowful sigh before once more meeting the detective's perplexed gaze with a vengeful stare of her own. "I was hoping you'd get to play along before I took you out…but this works just as well."

"For the last time lady, the name's DEWITT…BOOKER DEWITT…" He half shouted and half gasped. The lady scoffed in annoyance and anger.

"STOP IT! She shouted, tears threatening to spill her beautiful blue eyes. "Every time you say that name you besmirch a good man's memory…YOU...you are Zachary Hale Comstock." She finished calmly, stifling the emotions that once threatening to spill the banks. The tendrils of rage and pain gripped her heart but the vitriolic woman fought them back with a fervor. She never allowed herself to lose her composure during such encounters, she swore she would never give the bastard the pleasure of seeing her lose herself.

At Elizabeth's revelation, Booker felt his heart freeze, his brain felt like it had been hit with an _Electro Bolt, Incinerate, _and _Winter Blast _all at once. His body was shutting down and there was not he could do to stop it. But that familiar warm glow came about him one last time. He struggled to remain concious, to continue in thisr realm of reality, but the harder he fought the more ground he lost and soon strength failed.

((()))((()))

"_SMOTHER…Smother…smother" The same voice whispered in so many different tones. Booker noticed he was now standing knee deep in a pool of water somewhere in the countryside. The girl he had come to know as Elizabeth was now standing before him wearing a brilliant blue bolero, French corset, and blue skirt. Her hair was somewhat choppy, cut short in a hurry by the looks of it but she managed to wear the look well. Booker looked about and noticed that all around her were various other versions of herself, different only in slight variations of appearance but all giving him that same look. _

"_Before the choice is made."_

"_BEFORE you are born!" His Elizabeth clarifies. Odd, why did he come to think of her has 'his' Elizabeth. These weren't his thoughts, or were they? _

"_And what name shall you take my son?" An older man asked_

"_He's Zachary Comstock." Came a shocked and saddened voice to his right. This Elizabeth was dressed up in a black and white blouse and well taken care of; she gripped his arm with fierce determination without any indication of letting go._

"_H-he's Booker DeWitt." An Elizabeth that looked just like the girl from his first vision said with a braking voice as she grabbed his left arm with the same edge as the other._

"_No…I'm Both…" He said in a startling realization and with that the three girls plunged him deep into the waters below. The rush of water filling and expanding his lungs caused an overriding feeling of panic as survival instincts engaged. Yet he remained almost still, resigned to his fate, he would not fight this outcome, he chose it, he needed it, for the world's sake, for 'her' sake, he would die knowing she lived a life free of oppression, free of captivity, free of the reign of Zachary Hale Comstock, free of 'him. A life to live, a world to explore, a sea of infinite possibilities._ _It was overwhelming and soon all of the remaining oxygen in his lungs expired and Booker DeWitt took his last look at the waking world before descending into darkness._

((()))((()))

The detective's vision ended abruptly as he gripped his throat, he felt as if he were drowning but he was back in his office and no longer under the water as he once was. He felt a vibration starting at his feet gradually make its way up and over his entire body and his vision soon began to grow darker and darker. He first feel into the desk, his left arm propping him up long enough to make a strangled cry for help out to the girl but no voice could escape the suffocating sensation. Then he lost all energy and his vision went black as the feelings of vibration and ringing in his ears were the last sensation he ever experienced, as all became nothing, swept away in an endless ocean, bereft of life and void of all.

"Well…that was certainly unexpected…" The tormented goddess lamented as she took another drag of her cigarette and tossed it onto the floor before stomping it out under the bottom of her heel.

Elizabeth, to her credit, stood still throughout the entire ordeal, having watched as this Comstock had babbled and grown delirious at her revelation. It was unlike any other encounter she had with the monster in any other reality, but at this point she shouldn't have been surprised by anything. But something about all of this felt wrong and so she began to slowly step toward the desk to see if he was truly dead and gone.

* * *

-Across Infinity-

* * *

The sound of a child's crib echoed throughout the tiny apartment. It was the faintest of sounds at first, but slowly the small wailing grew and grew to the point where Booker's ears pricked up and not too long after, darkness gave way to light as his lids barely opened to take in his surroundings. He was back in his office, in New York. He could see the etching on the door, _DeWitt Investigations. _But this wasn't possible; he had been drowned in the water's of baptism. He broke the circle, he died, and there was no coming back from that. Yet here he was and…

"Anna…" He his hoarse voice cried out. Could it be, was this his second chance, had fate or God given him a chance to live a world where his stillborn daughter had lived? He sat-up straight and stood from his desk and began walking toward the door to the adjoining room. He reached for the doorknob, but hesitated with thoughts of regret and bitter anguish. What if this was all a joke, a dream, another foolhardy attempt to believe that he, Booker DeWitt, was capable of redemption. He didn't want to believe it was so, but life had dealt him a pretty lousy hand. He almost gave up when the baby's cries picked up once more and, with a dry gulp, he girded himself for what must be done.

"Anna..." He reached for the nob once more and opened the door. "Is that you...?" He whispered and a bright blinding light flooded his eyes. The former Pinkerton detective brought a hand to shield his sensitive eyes from the assault as they slowly acclimated to the shift in atmosphere. He lowered his hand slowly and his mouth opened in shock at his present position. The door slowly swung open and revealed a large shoreline, waves pounding at the sand and the skies clear and blue. The detective turned to go back the way he came and saw that no doorway existed. Great, just when he thought he was getting ahead, life had to come and pull the damn rug out from underneath him all over again.

"Robert! Rosalind! ARE YOU DOING THIS!" He shouted over the crashing waves and steady breeze. "I swear to God and all that is holy…if I find out you're behind this, I'll finish what Fink started and put a bullet in both your heads!"

No response came, nothing but the sounds of a tranquil shoreline untouched by man. Booker sighed and collapsed to his knees in the sand and stared out into the horizon. Was this what hell was supposed to be? No fire or brimstone, no demons with horns, but to be so close to paradise and ripped away without even so much as a warning. A single tear slipped down his cheek as he thought of everything he lost, Annabelle, Anna, twice, and most recent and even damning, he lost Elizabeth. Everything good in his life had either been taken from him or destroyed by his hand. Maybe it was better this way, if he weren't around then good people wouldn't be burned by his touch.

"Keep thinkin' like that and your sure not to see her again." A very familiar voice came from beside him, giving the private detective a start. When he looked over to see who dared disturb his brooding, he couldn't help but let his jaw grow slack. Booker stood from the sand and faced the man, only this was no mere man, this was a man he'd become quite familiar with, after all how could it be possible not to, he was standing face-to-face with himself, Booker DeWitt.

"Who…what the hell are you?" Booker asked of this doppleganger who chuckled and shook his head in amusement as he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared out into the ocean.

"Why isn't it obvious?" The other man chuckled as he shoved his hands into his pockets and cast a longing look out toward the sea.

"No, not really, no. Enlighten me." Booker asked of this doppelganger who seemed to shrug before turning his attention solely upon him.

"One man is submerged in the waters of baptism and another comes out." He leaned in and spoke calmly with raised eyebrows giving a motion for DeWitt to catch the hint.

"So, wait, you're Comstock?" Booker asked to the other man's chagrin.

"No, God no. Damn it man, aren't you listening. I'm you!" He said as he took Booker by the shoulders. "I'm the you that came out of that little dunk in the water by our favorite girl."

Booker chewed on this for a moment and pondered, he never really explored anything beyond the spiritual ramifications of a baptism but this took the cake. He was under the impression that by allowing those Elizabeth's to smother him after he excepted the baptism, that would put an end to the Comstock line and break that unyielding circle of pain and suffering. Yet here this man was turning all of that on its head, something just didn't quite add up.

"Wait a second, so if you're me, then why are you, me, _we…_why are we here? I mean What is this? Purgatory?" Booker asked as a million more questions flooded his brain. The other man smiled and shook his head. He stepped closer and motioned for the confused detective to walk with him, which the man in question acquiesced.

"Honestly, I have no idea where the hell we are and that's to say nothing about _why _this is happening…but I'm pretty sure I know why we, you and me, are here." He finished with a smirk.

"Okay, shoot." Booker urged him to continue. There was nothing to be gained from arguing or petty fighting, he needed information and this 'other Booker' seemed to be his only source. So he would play his cards as best he could and pray for a hopeful outcome.

"So you woke up in the office, back in New York, with Anna right?" He asked bringing a hand to his chin.

"Yeah and when I opened the door I was here…and there was no way back." DeWitt finished somberly and the other man sighed as he agreed with his version of events. They both served as reflections of the other as they each looked back in the opposite direction at the mention of the door before returning the same morose look, only the copy had a rueful smile adorning his face while Booker frowned.

"So I think I know what's going on. Only one of us can be there for that Anna…and I'm pretty sure that one is me." The other man concluded causing Booker to stare with a mixture of indignity and anger. How dare this man presume that _he _was the one that had been chosen for Anna? Damn it, he deserved a chance to be happy for once in his life, and this man looked to take it all away. No, he wouldn't let it happen, not if he had any say in matters.

"Just what the hell makes you say that?" Booker asked. So maybe this was his second chance after all and this guy was some sort of devil trying to take that away, he would have to put up a pretty damn good excuse to walk away and Booker was itching for a fight. No matter what his enemy looked like, no matter who they were, he would be damned if he was going to let his chance at redemption slip by because he did nothing.

"Well, to be blunt, it looks like two of us are need but by different people…Anna needs a Booker like me…" He started and noticed Booker's fists clenching in seething hatred. He crooked his jaw and snorted in amusement. He knew he should have chosen his words more carefully, of course he knew what the other man was thinking, as he was him. But this was the best way to describe it from his vantage point.

"…A Booker like you…just what the hell…" Booker went to accuse but was stopped when the other man held up his hand in a motion for him to explain. Booker swallowed his pride and nodded for the other man to carry on.

"As I was saying…I think that Anna needs a Booker like me…and _your _Elizabeth needs you…" He finished calmly, looking over Booker for any inkling that he was about to be socked in the jaw. Booker, for his part, stood there looking downcast. He thought back to Elizabeth, the simple girl from the tower. He chuckled darkly, _simple_, Elizabeth was anything but simple. She was wise beyond her years, kind beyond any understanding, had powers that no mere mortal should possess, and most of all, she had stolen his heart. But the damage was done, he had successfully destroyed any chance at a future with the girl. No matter how much he desired it to be so, he huffed with a sigh, it wasn't meant to be. Yet the look in the other Booker's eyes gave him hope and he couldn't help but entertain the idea once more.

"So, even if that were possible…how could I get back to her?" Booker whispered as the other man took a few steps forward and gripped him by the shoulders, slowly turning him to face the opposite way.

"Looks like there's a good an answer as any." He whispered and DeWitt looked up to find another version of him, soaked to the bone and wandering aimlessly from the waves toward them. This Booker was gray-haired and very much aged compared to himself and the other booker. He wore a different set of clothes as well, almost as if they were from a different time and place entirely. He looked confused and disoriented.

"Who's that?" Booker asked dumbly as he looked closely at the figure, it was indeed another version of him but unlike any he had seen prior to now, which wasn't saying much as he hadn't a wealth of experience in these confusing matters.

"Zachary Hale Comstock…the _last _Zachary Hale Comstock…" The other man replied, his tone bereft of any emotion or hint of anything other than neutrality. Booker looked at this man and found his brow furrowed in consternation.

"I don't...I don't understand..." Booker stammered as he split a look between this new arrival and this calmer, more serene Booker.

"You have a choice Booker, but you already know that, don't you." He said calmly with an acute nod. Booker, for his part, at first was perplexed at this insinuation but then, as if a cloud lifted, a singular thought pervaded his mind. The same thought that which brought him to brave the skies and assault the Prophet's airship. The same thought that gave him the courage to face the unrelenting forces of Columbia's Finest. The same thought that pushed him harder than any other point in his life...rid the world of Zachary Comstock, no matter the cost...for _her. _Booker turned to clarify further as to what he meant by that but by the time he moved his head the other Booker was already gone. He cursed himself; the other man was probably back in New York with Anna leaving him on the beach with this bastard. Still, something within him compelled him to approach this waterlogged bastard of a prophet.

Booker made his way down the beach and approached the slow moving ragged Prophet and stopped about half a yard away from the man to get a good look at him. He looked exhausted, beaten, and defeated. This was not the face that Booker DeWitt wished to see, this was the face of a coward who ran from his problems, who tortured and used everyone around him to fulfill his twisted games and wishes, and then when the going got tough he probably got going himself.

"Who…Who are you?" He croaked as he stumbled toward Booker, barely having the strength to carry on any further.

"It doesn't matter now…your time is up." Booker declared as he withdrew a Hand Cannon that had appeared in his holster and leveled it between the man's eyes as they grew wide with recognition.

"Y-you, you can't do this to me. Don't you know who I am?" He squeaked, trying to make it clear that his survival was something of an important commodity. Booker knew what this man had done, could do, and will do if left to his own devices.

"I know _exactly _who you are…and that's why I'm gonna do it." At Booker's last word he pulled the trigger and a shot rang out and the older man fell back into the ocean, a new hole bored through his skull. The detective looked down at the frail corpse but before he could do anything more the entire world seemed to collapse around him and a blinding white and gold light flooded his eyes and soon that light turned to darkness. Booker looked at his hands as he felt his very being begin to slip away, dissolve, and disappear, only to have a new unpleasant feeling of being funneled through a very small space and warped away at incredible speeds. The human perceptions of sight and sound had long since vanished and all that remained was feeling, feelings of pain and confusion as he traversed the darkness into a flash of light.

* * *

By now Elizabeth had just approached the edge of the desk and was cautiously attempting to peer over the ornate wooden furniture without approaching the body. She was fairly certain he was dead given that there was no movement or any indication otherwise, but it was still better to air on the side of caution. Just as she leaned far enough to see anything behind the piece, a hand shot up and slammed down upon the desk. Elizabeth leapt back with a yelp of surprise and watched as the man stood up once more, swaying to and fro but still alive and well.

Elizabeth recomposed herself and steadied her aim once more upon the apparently still breathing prophet to only notice several distinct changes. For starters his hair was no longer gray, but a more youthful reddish-brown. His clothes were no longer of the Rapturian style but that that worn of a bygone era. His hand, the hand that slammed the desk, was no longer clean sans the mark, but bloodied and wrapped in a very familiar soiled blue garment.

"What the…" Elizabeth started but the curse died in her throat as the man before her swiftly met her gaze at her words and looked just as startled as she felt.

"Elizabeth…Oh my God, Elizabeth! Is that really you?" He asked with joy as he rounded the desk and attempted to approach her, he was all but stopped by Elizabeth's cocking of the pistol. He held his hands up in defense as he swayed in an attempt to halt his advance having been still in the process of having his senses returned.

"Stay back you bastard! I don't know what the hell you're trying to pull, but pulling a dress-up gag isn't going to fool me, Comstock." She snarled with disgust. Never in all of her travels had she encountered a prophet that would stoop so low as to disguise himself as…no, he was going to die a most excruciating death. Convictions be damned, this Comstock was going to pay dearly for this stunt, come hell or high water he would suffer the most out of all the others.

"Comsto…Elizabeth, it's me Booker…" He once more tried to step forward but she held up the gun making it very clear it was in his best interest to stay were he stood.

"Use that name again and I'll put one in your gut and watch you bleed out right here and now!" She shouted and fired a round off into the floor to emphasize her point.

"Elizabeth. I don't understand, the last time I saw you, we…well..._you _found out that I was Comstock and smothered me back there during the Baptism." He pleaded and Elizabeth looked suddenly confused by where he was going with this logic. "I thought that by killing me, you stopped him, me, everything…you wouldn't suffer any more…"

Elizabeth stopped and looked at this man, he was either extremely delusion or had been lying so long here in Rapture that he'd begun to drink his own poison. Either way, she wasn't buying it and once again straightened her shoulders and prepared to put a bullet in the man's head and watch his brains leak out across Andrew Ryan's precious city floors. DeWitt dry gulped at the woman's convictions and looked about the strange surroundings. Before he could become too distracted by the utterly foreign and dark atmosphere, he lightly shook his head and began to wrack his brain for some way to convince Elizabeth that he wasn't the man she believed to still be alive.

"Okay, so you don't believe me, ummm…I got it, you've always wanted to go Paris, it's been your dream since you were little!" Booker exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. Elizabeth furrowed her brows in surprise and befuddlement.

"What?" She didn't outright understand what this Comstock was playing at.

"I can prove to you that I'm _your _Booker DeWitt by telling you something only I would know...that is...umm..about you." He answered in a matter-of-fact tone at first, later having slipped into a decisively less confident demeanor the more his idea wore upon him.

"Or by something you could have seen through years of observation while you had me locked away in the tower." Elizabeth concluded bitterly.

"Or that…that's also true…shit." Booker chided himself and rubbed his chin. _"Gotta think DeWitt, how can you get her to believe you." _

"The pendant…on your neck…I picked it for you the day we escaped your tower. You had trouble picking and I suggested the bird over the cage because it more fit your personality." DeWitt offered and received the sound of a cocked revolver in response. _Damn it, _he thought tersely as he struggled to think of something that he and not Zachary Comstock would know about this woman. The old man had an advantage over him being an all-seeing prophet and all, but he wasn't about to give up, not when a life with Elizabeth was on the line.

"Okay ummm…you made me promise, no matter what, to not let that freaking bird take you back to your tower EVEN THOUGH I could have taken care of him…you still wanted me to promise you…even though I could never go through with it." Booker offered truthfully and Elizabeth lowered the revolver a little, uncocking the hammer as she did so _Finally, _he thought to himself as he gave a small sigh of relief. he was getting through.

"_Okay Booker, you've got your foot in the door, it's time to bring this home." _Booker thought as he effortlessly reflected on their journey together and came upon the perfect memory that would either tip her over to his side or result in his untimely demise. But either way it was worth it if it meant another chance with her. This was it, he would lay his cards on the table and let the chips fall where they may, no turning back now.

"When I rescued you from Comstock's _device_...I told you what happened on the way and…and…" Booker paused as his throat became dry at the familiar rush of emotion that came with that moment.

"I couldn't help myself…I confessed that I had fallen in love with you right there on the spot…I didn't know when it happened or even how it happened, but it happened…I promised you that no matter what I wouldn't let anything happen to you ever again, I would never leave your side, and I will kill Comstock for you if it was the last thing I did…" Booker smiled at the memory, he was so nervous about confessing but at that point he had nothing to lose. He thought he'd lost her for good and when he got her back, well, a man can only keep it to himself for so long before he comes to terms with the reality that he doesn't have forever to wait. He was pleasantly surprised when she responded in kind with the most passionate kiss he'd ever shared with a woman.

"It was the first time I called you by my own little nickname for you, Ellie." Booker mused but was soon brought out of his reverie by the sound of the revolver cocking once more and so he closed his eyes.

"I love you, Elizabeth…and I'm sorry…for everything…you deserve so much more…so if you're gonna shoot, I won't blame you and I certainly won't stop you." With that, Booker took a brave step forward, his eyes still closed, and held up his hands and waited for the inevitable. Seconds that felt like eternity passed and nothing happened, then a loud clamber echoed throughout the room as metal collided with polish floor and a gentle hand grazed his cheek. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into watery pools of the most exquisite blue he'd ever seen, those eyes that captured his heart so long ago and continued to steal his every thought today.

"Booker…i-is it you?" She asked tentatively, still uncertaing if she was making the right decision. He knew this was a do-or-die moment and he would forever regret the road not taken and so Booker wrapped an arm around her lithe waste and brought his lips down to hers in a crash of longing and passion. Elizabeth gasped at first as she felt his warm lips collide with her own, every instinct screamed to fight him off but then a wash of warmth and love fell upon her. She remembered those lips, she remembered the love behind them from nearly a lifetime ago or so it seemed, and so Elizabeth closed her eyes and lost herself in the passionate embrace. The two stood their, lips locked and arms intertwined; breaking only for the fact that they needed air, he separated with a smirk to her surprised face. Her fully chest heaved with breath as Elizabeth attempted to regain her composure after such a passionate exchange.

"The one and only…more or less…" He added with a chuckle as the love of his life buried her face in his shirt and began to sob uncontrollably. This was an unexpected turn of events but he was more than happy to see that she had opted to place her trust in him instead of shooting him where he stood. Booker brought the trembling woman into his arms and began to rub his hand up and down her back as he whispered, letting her know that it was all going to be okay now, he wasn't leaving her ever again.

"It was so hard, Booker." She began as another tremor of anguish and sorrow wracked her tiny frame. "After you…after you…I tried, I tried so hard…Paris, it wasn't...it wasn't the same without you…" She sobbed and cried into the arms of her man as the private detective offered sweet hushes and rubbed her back in comfort.

"You made it to Paris then?" Booker asked, trying to get her mind to a better place. The morose woman looked up from his chest to meet his eyes and nodded somberly.

"It wasn't the same, nothing gave me joy anymore…nothing except knowing that _bastard _was getting what he was due." She spat and shook her head into his shirt once more.

"Oh God, Ellie, I'm so sorry. I promise, now that I'm back, there'll be no more of that. We can go to Paris, just like you wanted, have that happily ever after too if that's still in the cards." He offered as he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. She smiled briefly then frowned and turned away, pushing off from their embrace and coming to stand by the desk.

"No Booker, I-I can't…there are still too many Comstock's out there still causing pain…I just…can't…" Elizabeth started but Booker came beside her and turned her once more to face him.

"Elizabeth, I don't know how but trust me when I say that he was the last one…there aren't any more Comstock's left." Booker said softly, trying to reassure her as best he could with knowledge he wasn't even certain he fully believed.

"How can you say that? Booker, trust me, I can see every reality…" Elizabeth began to argue but was interrupted by a sharp feminine voice at the edge of the room.

"I would listen to the man if I were you." A very familiar red-headed woman warned with earnest as she looked over to her counterpart.

"It would be most prudent to reevaluate your facts as you understand them at this time, to say the least." The redheaded male spoke up as well giving a slight nod to the girl. Elizabeth closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds before opening them back with a hint of shock.

"They're gone…" She said disbelieving of her own words. It was impossible, but not improbable she supposed internally. She looked behind all of the doors in the infinite sea and she found that Zachary Hale Comstock no longer inhabited any of their worlds. In a word, they were free from the prophet's reign, free from his influence, free from all of the horrors he could potentially unleash upon the unsuspecting world. She was surprised, she was uneasy, she was happy, so many emotions flooded her it was exhausting to say the least.

"See, I told you. Wait? I'm right?" Booker's pride at being right quickly faltered at the shock that the other man's words were accurate after all.

"Indeed you are correct, Mister DeWitt." Robert affirmed with a smile.

"Surprising, isn't it?" Rosalind goaded, earning a hardy eye-roll from the detective. Booker went to offer a witty retort to the seemingly rude woman when Elizabeth flew from her position of the now leaning Booker as he had been pushed to stand against the desk following their lover's exchange to now stand between _her _Booker and the Lutece twins. Waves of anger emenated from her small form as she seethed in rage, these two had been with them since the very beginning and now they appear once more as if they knew all along this would be the outcome. All of the pain, the bitter loneliness, everything, they could have prevented it all in her estimation.

"You knew…all this time you knew…why didn't you say anything! How…how could you let me go through all of this if…" Elizabeth trailed off, her anger and self-hatred at the thought of killing Booker once more coming to the surface.

"Point of clarification, we did _not _know this would be the outcome…" Rosalind started.

"…we only knew that in an infinite universe, with infinite possibilities, that this _seemingly _impossible eventuality was merely…" Robert continued.

"…highly improbable at best, but never fully impossible." Rosalind echoed her brother's tone.

"Besides, would you have listened to us at the very beginning? After all, you were quite headstrong when I tried to ward you off your seemingly impossible quest at the start." Robert finished leaving Elizabeth ponder the ramifications of her own actions and reconsider the blame she was attempting to assign. Booker, tired of merely standing there like a dead fish, decided to speak up.

"Right, so, I'm back from the dead, Comstock's finally bit the big one for good…Ellie and I can go to Paris now, right?" He directed at the twins as the stepped forward and wrapped an arm protectively around his charge. Elizabeth smiled with a blush as she looked up at him and back at the twins.

"Unfortunately…it's not that simple…" Robert said with a saddened sigh as he looked to his sister who shared the same sentiment.

"My brother is correct, unfortunately, there is still the matter of Sally that needs attending to." Elizabeth nodded in affirmation but Booker looked about the three in confusion.

"Someone gonna key me in here, who's Sally?" He asked annoyed by the turn of events.

"A very important girl here in this city beneath the depths…one that must be saved lest she be doomed to a less than desirable experience and in doing so setting off a rather important series of events." Rosalind offered as the only explanation to which Booker exhaled in frustration and, ultimately, resignation. He reached down and smiled as he grabbed his lover's hand.

"So, you up for one last adventure before Paris?"

"As long as it's with you, Booker." She smiled as she reached up and brought a hand to his cheek.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." He replied softly as he returned the gesture with his own and smiled. The two looked at the twins who shared a knowing look between the pair of them and gave a curt nod,

"Wonderful, then by all means Mister DeWitt-" Robert Began.

"-Welcome to Rapture." Rosalind finished and the pair opened the door to a brave new world, but Booker and Elizabeth were ready to face this newest task for they were together now and nothing on Earth or in Heaven would ever separate them again.

* * *

**Endnote: Soooo yeah, I hope that I made the distinctions pretty clear. The Booker at the very beginning is the same Booker that we as the players use for Part I of Burial at Sea, whereas the Booker DeWitt of the second half of the story is the Booker DeWitt of Bioshock Infinite proper. I hope I made the distinction well enough for you guys to get without confusion because it can be hard to put my thoughts to words. In any event I do hope you all enjoyed this and that you all have Happy and Safe New Years!**

**Thank you all for your kindness and support throughout 2019, it's really meant a lot and helped me get through some tough times as well as kept me inspired to continue writing and for that I am grateful because it's one thing to write something that I myself enjoy, it's another thing entirely to write something that I enjoy AND others as well. Your reviews and reads are always greatly appreciated! Again thank you kindly and look forward to some pretty fun things in the New Year/New Decade! 2020 here we come!**

**Thank you all again for taking the time read and review! **

**Respectfully,**

**TheLifeLongEditor**


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